What to Do in the Mojave When It's Freezing
by AlphaMonkey
Summary: Veronica has a problem: she can't ever seem to get warm. Thankfully, her new traveling companion doubles as a human space heater.


Opposites attract.

That was the theory, anyway.

Kelly had never really bought into it. People were always trying to pitch it to her: "Magnets!" They'd say, "Look at magnets!"

She wasn't convinced. Maybe that worked in physics or chemistry or that there fancy-shmancy science stuff, but between people? How could anyone figure that "opposites attract" could work between people? It just didn't make any goshdarned sense.

If I liked being out of doors, spending my nights out under the wide open, staring up into a starry night sky, and you lived in a big ol' hole in the ground, how were we supposed to connect? If you liked tinkering with robots and gadgets, always taking 'em apart and putting 'em back together to see how they worked, and I couldn't even set the time on my watch right, that just didn't seem like the best way to start a friendship, now did it?

That was how Kelly looked at things. That was how Veronica looked at things, too. They'd been pushed together only by a common need to not get dead, and it wasn't until one night when they'd stopped, made camp, and settled in by the fire to wait for morning that they'd found that maybe, just maybe, they could be friends after all.

Didn't that beat all.

* * *

><p>"I'm… f-freezing."<p>

"Ah, ye're always cold. What's'a matter, too chilly outside of your nice climate-controlled bunker? Mebbe I should turn up the thermostat on the Mojvae."

Veronica didn't rise to the bait. She was too busy shivering to snark back. Instead, she settled for flashing Kelly a dirty, murderous look, pulled her hands further into the sleeves of her robes and did her best to huddle in on herself for warmth.

"You know, you might not be so cold alla time if ya put on something other'n that burlap sack of yours."

"Or you could just keep flapping your gums and send some more of that hot air coming my way, that might help, too."

"Well, hooo-wee, darlin', she's got some spunk in 'er, after all."

Veronica offered her a brittle smile.

* * *

><p>It might've been the howl of the wind that woke them, or maybe all the bluster that tore at their bedrolls. But really, it was most likely the bitter cold that gouged deep into their bones, that made their entire bodies ache, and that clung to them like the first layers of frost that signaled the onset of winter. It was enough that even the normally implacable Kelly awoke to find her teeth chattering. Not that she would admit it, of course, but she'd suffered through many a frigid desert night, and this one was as bad as they got.<p>

Out in the open, with no real shelter other than the few outcroppings of rock they'd built their camp around, the cold was going to be a constant companion all night. If it was beginning to vex her, she could only imagine how Veronica was dealing.

She raised her head up off the ground, inched an arm out and poked a few times at the fire, just for show. She'd built it well, and it crackled happily lending its light, and more importantly, badly needed warmth to their campsite. Through the light cast by the flickering flames, she could make out the Brotherhood scribe curled up into a tight little ball, folded in on herself as snug as she could manage. But even so, she shivered almost uncontrollably, her breath ragged and hissing as she took that air in through clenched teeth.

"Hey. You awake? How you doin' over there?"

"P-p-peachy."

Kelly frowned. The scribe had followed instructions to the letter: setting up her bedroll close to the fire and angled amidst the stones so that they'd trap the heat and reflect it back over her while she slept. But even with all that, she was still having a rough time of it. Kelly couldn't blame her; it really was just that cold. "You ain't gonna be much good to anyone if you freeze to death, you know," she said, her tone showing some sympathy for once.

"I'm… f-fine."

"No, you're not. C'mon, no need for pride, Vee. It's cold as -balls,- out here." She sighed, undid the zipper on her sleeping bag just the tiniest bit, and held out an arm – unable to believe, at first, that she was even doing it. "Be warmer over here with the two of us. Tight fit, but there's room."

Veronica snorted. "Usually… usually g-girls buy me dinner b-before… before trying to get me into bed."

"I cooked. That's gotta count for something. 'sides… this is what I like to call 'extenuating circumstances' on account of your tits are just about to fall off 'cause of the cold."

That part was probably truer than Veronica wanted to admit. She muttered. "I guess."

"I promise, I'll be a perfect… er… lady."

The scribe turned and flashed her a skeptical look. Though she was no warmer, physically, than she had been a few seconds ago, the smirk on her face was no longer its usual icy self. "You're no lady."

"Heh. No, I reckon I ain't. But I still promise to behave."

Apparently that was all the reassurance Veronica needed, because she nodded and practically leapt over to the other side of the camp, slipping easily into Kelly's bedroll and curling up against the other woman's side. There were a few awkward moments as they both attempted to figure out where to put their hands, until Veronica inadvertently brushed her fingers against the bare skin of Kelly's stomach.

The former Mojave Express courier nearly leapt to her feet from the shock. She sputtered. "Holy crap, girl!"

"Yeah… uh… sorry about that."

But Kelly was more surprised and amused than angry. "You just… you just keep those lil' ice blocks you call hands away from me!" Her voice caught at the end as she tried and only marginally succeeded to stifle a snicker.

Suddenly, in spite of herself, Veronica was grinning, too. "Or what?"

Kelly laughed. "Or you're going right back on over to that freezing bedroll of yours, and if come morning I gotta chisel you out of a glacier, well, that's just how it's gonna have to be."

"Ok, ok, I'll behave," the scribe chuckled.

"All right, then. I'm glad we could come to an arrangement." She looped an arm loosely around the smaller woman's waist.

It wasn't much, all told, but that little gesture was probably the most overt sign of sympathy and understanding Veronica had received from the normally standoffish courier to date. Not that Kelly was a bad person, it was just abundantly clear that she favored her solitude. Dealing with people on a regular basis had never been her thing.

Veronica settled in. Huddled under all the insulation and with the other woman close by her side, she had to admit that the cold was suddenly a lot more bearable than it had been over on the other side of the camp. Sure, the accommodations were a little… snug, but that, too, had its advantages – especially in light of that little crack her traveling companion had made about the ice-block hands. That would have to be addressed; she couldn't just let something like that slide, after all.

She felt a wicked little grin cross her face as she waited for the other woman to start drifting off. It didn't take long – they'd spent most of the day walking, even going further than they'd originally intended to try and locate something approaching a suitable campsite instead of the empty expanses of wasted desert they'd been passing through for most of the past day or so. It therefore didn't take long before Kelly's breathing went deep and steady – that was her cue.

While the rest of Veronica was finally starting to warm up nicely – she was remembering what it was like to have fingers, again – her feet were still freezing. Normally that was a handicap, but for what she had in mind this time? It was perfect.

She toed off a sock then carefully bent her leg backwards, feeling the arch of her foot bump up against denim. Gingerly, she traced the seam of Kelly's pant leg all the way down to where it opened up.

Now this was the difficult part. There wasn't a lot of room to maneuver – the bedroll was large enough for the both of them, but only if they were pretty much pressed skin against skin. She had to shimmy awkwardly (and slowly) so that she wouldn't wake the woman sleeping next to her, then slipped her toes up underneath the pant leg. She grazed the edge of her sock – just a little further and she'd reach bare skin, and then-

"Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ! Veronica!"

She didn't even try to hide her guilt. There was no point to it. She was laughing too hard.


End file.
